


Playground Of The Mind

by orphan_account



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Consensual Underage Sex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Developing Relationship, Doctor/Patient, Emotional Manipulation, Falling In Love, Gay Sex, Hannibal is decidedly older, M/M, Manipulation, Masturbation, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Older Man/Younger Man, Rough Sex, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Will is a teenager
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:40:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22371202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After he gets in some major trouble at school, high school junior Will Graham is sent to the mental hospital run by Doctor Hannibal Lecter to try to sort himself out.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 11
Kudos: 123





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had the idea for this one knocking around in my head for a couple of years now, so I guess now's as good a time to get on it as any. I hope you enjoy reading!
> 
> TW: School shooting mention. No actual death or killing is had, but I figured it was worth putting a warning either way because it's a plot point.

In all his years on the force, Jack Crawford had always prayed he’d never have to take in someone he knows, much less the child of someone he knows; and yet, here he is. He takes his hat off and glances sideways at the boy next to him. Will has always been small for his age, but as he sits now, shoulders hunched and blue eyes wide, he looks even smaller than normal.

Jack clears his throat, searching for something comforting to say. He finds nothing and closes his mouth, shifting in his chair and glancing around the slate-grey hallway. After another moment of silence, the man forces himself to speak.

“You hungry, Will?” He winces at the almost audible thud his words make when Will doesn’t respond. He should’ve expected this.

Will stays completely silent, wide eyes fixed on a small discolored spot on the wooden floor. He’s completely in his head, and Jack knows that now is the worst possible time to try to have a conversation. Despite that fact, Jack catches himself trying once again to find something, _anything_ to get the boy to talk to him.

Before he can finish constructing his thoughts, the heavy wooden door across the hall swings open, and a tall man in a smart suit steps forward, making room for a nurse to slip by and down the hall. Her heels echo as she walks quickly, finally turning a corner and vanishing.

The man in the suit surveys the two people before him, dark eyes resting on Will’s timid form for a long moment.

“Doctor Lecter,” Jack stands quickly, offering his hand to shake.

The doctor shakes his hand, smiling ever so slightly. “It’s good to see you again, Jack.” His voice is velvet smooth and heavily accented. He steps aside, holding his office door open, “Won’t you come in?”

Jack nods, tapping his hat against his own leg. He turns back, attempting to catch Will’s attention, but the doctor assures him the boy is fine where he is.

“It’s not often you call on me in person, Jack,” Doctor Lecter pours two glasses of brandy, bringing one to his companion. “This must be a special case.”

“It is, doctor,” Jack sips his drink, relaxing back into the large leather armchair. “I’ve known that kid for a long time…”

The doctor offers a wry smile and nods, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, “What’s happened then?”

Jack sighs, the weight of the past week finally settling on his shoulders, “Will has always been an unusual kid. Always sweet, always smart, but always unusual.” He chooses his words carefully, “This past summer, he started getting into more and more trouble.”

Doctor Lecter raises an eyebrow and settles himself behind his large polished desk, “What sort of trouble?”

“The sort of things you’d imagine, doctor; talking back to his dad or his teachers, got caught shoplifting once or twice, but…” He takes a breath, dreading his next words, “He brought a gun to school.”

The air in the room goes frigid. It’s something Jack knows the both of them have dealt with in the past, but it’s never a subject that’s easy to discuss. It’s like a nightmare come to life.

“Was anyone hurt?"

Jack shakes his head, fingers tightening on the delicate glass in his hands. “No one. Kept saying he was never going to hurt anyone.”

The doctor strokes his chin and nods, staring at the wall behind Jack as he thinks about what to ask next. “Did he say where he got it?”

“All he said is that he was told to bring it to school. Never anything else.”

“Someone told him?” Jack nods but isn’t able to give more details. Hannibal decides to change the subject, “And the officers who arrested him?”

“Didn’t believe him,” Jack laughs bitterly, “Not a damn word he said. They blamed it on his mental problems.”

“Of course they did.”

The two men sit in silence for a moment, both considering what has to come next. If Will is found to be truly unstable, there’s no saying what would need to be done to ensure he’s not a danger to anyone.

“I, uh… I took over as the head officer on his case,” Jack says. “The others were treating him like shit.”

“Why bring him to me?”

“Have you seen him?” Jack looks a haunted man, “Kid’s a goddamn wraith. They wanted to send him to a detention center, but he’d get eaten alive in a place like that. I fought for him to get real help.” He runs a hand across his forehead, “You’re the best there is, doctor. If anyone can help him, it’s you.”

Jack steps out of the office, placing his thoroughly wrung-out hat back on his head. He crouches down in front of Will, squeezing his shoulder and telling him to call if he needs anything. The boy nods and whispers a farewell, and Jack is off down the hall, leaving only the boy and the doctor.

Doctor Lecter beckons Will into his office, holding the door open for him. He watches out of the corner of his eye how the boy steps in, head lowered and immediately goes back to standing completely still. He barely seems to be breathing.

“I’m doctor Hannibal Lecter.” No response. “Have a seat, Will, make yourself comfortable.”

The boy nods and does as he’s asked, picking at his own fingers. His long curls fall forward and into his face, shielding him from the rest of the room.

Hannibal walks around the boy and leans against the desk, listening to the seconds tick by on the wall clock. Jack wasn’t exaggerating when he called this young man a wraith: he’s stick-thin with a mop of thick, black curls that reach almost down to his shoulders. His sky-blue eyes are rimmed with red and look somewhat sunken, possibly from malnutrition. The silence is clearly making him uncomfortable, and he clears his throat slightly.

“C-could I have some water?”

“Of course,” The doctor turns to get him a glass, “Would you be alright with answering a few questions, Will?”

He nods, only making eye contact with Doctor Lecter for a brief moment when he takes his water.

“Let’s start with some simple things first,” Hannibal settles behind his desk, folding his hands in his lap. “How old are you, Will?”

“S-sixteen… sir.” His grip on his glass tightens.

“You’re a junior in high school, then?”

“Yes, sir…”

Hannibal sits forward a bit, trying to take in every mannerism that could tell him more about the young man before him. He wants to ask more personal questions, wants to see if he can peer through the cracks to get a bigger picture of this supposedly disturbed psyche. “Tell me about your family life.”

Will chews his lip, starting to fidget ever so slightly, “What would you like to know?”

“Let’s start with your father,” Hannibal pulls a notepad close and clicks a pen open, casting his gaze over to the boy, awaiting an answer.

“He’s, um… he’s a little… I guess distant is the word.” He continues to worry his lip between his teeth.

The doctor makes a note and nods, already beginning to construct a sort of profile. “Not abusive, I hope?”

Will shakes his head, insisting that no, his father has never been anything even similar to abusive. “He, um, he drinks sometimes, but it’s never anything really unhealthy. The most he’s done is fall asleep on the couch every few nights.”

Hannibal writes _“Well spoken; intelligent”_ on his notes and taps his pen against his own hand. “Is that all?”

The boy takes another sip of his water, already starting to retreat back into himself. He clearly doesn’t like feeling as though he’s being assessed, and Hannibal has the distinct impression that this happens more often than he’s comfortable with.

“Shall we discuss your mother, then?”

Will tenses a bit and closes his eyes. It’s a split-second, almost involuntary reaction, but it’s a very real one. He’s struck a nerve. “I… never knew her,” He mumbles, “Dad doesn’t talk about her.”

Hannibal raises an eyebrow but doesn’t respond beyond that. He writes _“Mother - Deceased(?)”_ and underlines it. “I’m sorry to hear that, Will.”

At the sight of the boy retreating even further back into his shell, the doctor clicks his pen again and sets it down. “Why don’t we move onto you?”

“I-if you say so, Doctor.” There’s a hint of gratefulness in his tone.

“Tell me about yourself, Will. You know, things you like, things you don’t like.” Hannibal laughs a bit, “I’m certain I needn’t explain it to you.”

“Okay…” Will goes back to chewing his lip, “Where should I start?”

“Things you like?”

He fidgets, drumming his fingers against his water glass, “Dogs. I really like dogs.”

The doctor smiles at the surprisingly innocent answer and leans on his hand, “Do you have a dog, Will?”

“No, but I’ve always wanted one.” His lips twitch into a barely-there smile, “Maybe I can really have one when I live on my own.”

“That’s a good goal to have,” The doctor says. “Perhaps we can discuss that in the future.”

Will sits up straighter, feeling a bit more comfortable with the man sitting across from him. He chews his lip, daring to come out of his shell just an inch and taking a full look around the office, “What’re all these books?”

“Notebooks; some are personal journals.” Hannibal rises and makes his way over to pull one of the leatherbound journals down, “I write my notes on all of my patients in these, and I keep them as reference material."

The boy hesitates, “You’ll put me in one of these?” He asks it like he’s worried the notebook will keep him there forever.

“If you’re my patient long enough, then yes.” He turns to face his young companion, “Unless that makes you too uncomfortable.”

“I have a choice?”

Hannibal nods, setting the blank journal on his desk, “My job is to make you as comfortable as possible, Will. I can’t help you if you don’t trust me. If you don’t want me keeping a detailed notebook about you, I have to respect that.” He looks up sharply, making genuine eye contact with the boy for the first time since he arrived, “Would you prefer I don’t?”

“N-no!” Will quickly averts his eyes, looking embarrassed at his anxious reaction, “I-I was just curious. You can take all the notes you want.”

The doctor can’t help but smile, “Very well then.” He straightens up, motioning for Will to follow, “Come along, I’ll show you to your room.”

Hannibal leads Will through winding hallways, past rooms with closed doors that occasionally the sound of music or conversation can be heard through.

“Are we allowed to play music?” Will asks after they pass the third door with signs of life behind it.

“Provided it’s not disturbing the other patients, you’re welcome to do what you like in your own room.” He stops at a door and unlocks it, pushing it open to reveal the somewhat barren bedroom. “This is yours. You’re welcome to decorate as you please, but obviously nothing too offensive.”

Will nods and walks over to the small bed, running his fingers over the soft quilt. “Will I be able to get some of my belongings?”

“Mr. Crawford said he’d be bringing what he could,” Hannibal sighs and leans against the doorframe, “I’m afraid the police broke quite a number of your personal belongings when you were arrested.”

Will nods again and drops onto the bed, pulling his knees up to his chest. His lip quivers a bit, but he tries to hide it by leaning his chin on his knee, “I don’t have anything clean to wear.”

The doctor watches him for a moment, “Why don’t you go shower? I’ll bring you something to change into.”

“Towels?”

Hannibal points to the small dresser in the corner, “And the showers are right down the hallway. I'll be back in a moment.”

The boy goes to the dresser and takes out the clean and admittedly quite soft towels from the drawer. He hugs them to his chest, trying desperately to stop the tears that are now freely flowing down his cheeks. A moment later, he turns and makes his way down the hallway to the bathroom, hoping to finally wash some of his hurt away.

When Hannibal returns to Will’s room, the boy is gone. Listening closely, he can barely hear the sound of the shower running down the hall and he smiles to himself, happy that he's at least attempting to care for himself. He sets the small pile of clothes on the bed and glances around the room. Part of him wishes he could’ve given Will a slightly bigger room, but he knows he shouldn’t treat him as though he’s a special case, however much he wants to. It’s a mistake to get invested in the boy this early into their time together.

“Doctor Lecter?” Hannibal turns to find Will, still wet from the shower, with a towel around his waist and a smaller one draped over his shoulders. He looks surprisingly refreshed and a bit calmer, though his eyes are somewhat raw and red.

“Apologies, I was simply bringing you something clean to wear.” He gestures to the stack of clothes, “I’ll get in contact with Mr. Crawford this evening to make sure you get everything you need. Is there anything specific I should ask him to bring?”

“Um…” Will chews his lip, “Do you know if my tackle box is still there?”

The doctor raises an eyebrow but shakes his head, “I’ll ask him to look for it. Do you fish, Will?”

“Sometimes…” He genuinely smiles, and Hannibal involuntarily sucks in a breath. “My dad takes me during the summer when he can.”

“Perhaps you can show me sometime.”

Will nods and adjusts the towel around his waist, “I, um…”

Hannibal clears his throat and straightens up, averting his eyes from the young man before him, “I’ll leave you to get some rest. Have a good night, Will.”

The boy turns his back once the door closes and picks up the clothes on the bed. It’s a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a pair of clean underwear. The pants and underwear fit well enough, but the shirt is practically a dress on him. He sighs softly and turns the light out before climbing into bed. The light from outside the window casts a soft orange glow on the wall opposite him. He finds himself drifting into sleep much easier than he was expecting to. Maybe this will be good for him to experience after all.

_I like the doctor…_ Will thinks as he drifts off. _I hope he’ll be able to help me._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 of Will's "treatment".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty dialogue-heavy and significantly longer than the first one, so I'm sorry if that's not really your thing. There is a little reward for you if you make it all the way to the end, though ;)

Will is awoken by a rapid and aggressive knocking at his door. He jolts up and jumps out of bed as the red-headed nurse he saw leaving Doctor Lecter’s office the previous evening steps in, surveying him with a look of vague annoyance. 

“The doctor wants to see you.” When Will doesn’t immediately move, she begins tapping her foot. “ _ Now, please. _ I have more patients to deal with than just you.”

Will’s fidgeting with the hem of his baggy shirt, “I-I don’t have any clean clothes…”

The nurse rolls her eyes, “That’s not my problem, kid. I was told to get you to Lecter’s office,  _ that’s it. _ ” She puts emphasis on the last words as though that will suddenly make everything go the way she wants it to.

To an extent, it does; Will crouches down to pull his sneakers on, not bothering to tie them. The less amount of time he has to spend near this woman, the better. He brushes past her and into the hall, hesitating for a moment when he sees the other patients in the hospital. Some are groggily stepping into the hallway or making their way to the showers. A few simply prop their doors open but remain in their rooms.  A man in his early twenties steps out of his room, running a hand through his sandy-blond hair. A few doors down, a teenage girl, probably a year or so younger than Will, steps into the hall, delicately adjusting a scarf around her neck. She has straight dark hair and piercing blue eyes, and she immediately looks towards the newcomer. Something about her makes Will glance back before he rounds the corner, but she’s already walking away from him.

  
  


“Come in.”

Will cautiously steps into the office, closing the door behind him. The doctor is seated at his desk, writing something in one of his leatherbound journals. The room looks the same as it did the night before, but Will still feels slightly uneasy, almost as though he’s being watched by hundreds of eyes he can’t see. He slowly makes his way to one of the leather armchairs and sinks down into it, glancing sideways at the brimming bookshelves.

Hannibal looks up from his writing and offers a kind smile, “Good morning, Will. I take it you slept well?”

The boy nods, pushing his hair away from his eyes, “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“Good.” The doctor sets his pen down and motions to a small stack of boxes in the corner, “Mr. Crawford brought those for you this morning. I hope it’s everything you needed.”

Will jumps up and practically runs to the boxes, pulling them open and going through them with enthusiasm. There’s a few of his favorite books, several stacks of clean clothes, and a newish iPod which he stops and stares at in rapt silence. Attached to the back of the little device is a blue post-it note which reads  _ “I loaded it up with everything I thought you’d like. Sorry it isn’t fancier. I’ll visit you soon. Love, Dad.” _ He sighs softly and tucks the note into his pocket, dropping the iPod into the box of clothes. 

Hannibal is still seated behind his desk, hands folded under his chin and dark eyes trained on the young man as he sorts through his belongings. “Everything as it should be?”

“Yeah…” The boy rubs his eyes and turns towards the doctor, “I guess the tacklebox was a longshot, huh?”

“I’m afraid so,” Doctor Lecter states. “Because of the hooks and fishing line, they deemed it a possible weapon, so it’s currently locked up in evidence. I did, however, ask if Mr. Crawford could replace some of what was taken, and he said he’d get started today.”

Will can’t help but smile, “I’ve always really liked Jack. He sort of acted like a second father to me.”

The doctor smiles as well, standing and walking around the desk to be just a bit closer to the young man. “How did you meet him?”

“Oh, um…” The boy tugs at his shirt, “He’s been a family friend for as long as I can remember. He’s always been super protective of me, and he once said I’m like the son he always wanted. Sometimes he’d even pick me up from school when my dad was working, or--” He cuts himself off.

“Or?” Hannibal raises an eyebrow, prompting the boy to continue.

Will chews his lip, “I… Should I really be talking about this?”

“Of course, Will.” The doctor motions for him to sit, “Consider this our first official session.”

He nods and takes the chair, suddenly aware of how small he must seem to this powerful and intelligent man. “Um… Where should I start?”

“You were talking about your father, perhaps we should talk more about your relationship with him.”

“Yeah, okay…” Will’s story starts slow as he gives details from his childhood as best he can remember them: fishing in the summers with his father when he was young; finding and rescuing a puppy he found on the side of the road. He loved that dog dearly until, at the age of only one year, it fell sick and died in the boy’s arms. The various snapshots begin to make up the collage that is this young man’s life. It’s only when he reaches middle school that the boy’s tale begins to falter.

“It was… Seventh grade? No, maybe eighth…” His voice gets significantly quieter as he begins muttering to himself, trying to sort out the details of his life. After a moment, he stops talking entirely. 

Hannibal watches the boy closely, the profile he’s creating is coming together more and more.  _ Trauma. Mental block for his own survival. Not used to being the center of attention, but he does want to be seen by… Someone he admires.  _ “Will?”

The boy jolts slightly, blue eyes snapping up to Hannibal’s face. “Yes?”

“You were telling me about your middle school career.”

“Right, um…” He trails off again, staring down at his lap. The seconds tick by in heavy silence as Will racks his brain for answers he just doesn’t have. “I-I can’t remember…”

“Nothing at all?”

The boy shakes his head, dark curls falling into his eyes, “I-I really can’t think of anything.” His breath picks up and Hannibal can see he’s on the verge of panicking.

“Easy,” The doctor puts a hand out to get his patient’s attention. “Stay in the moment.”

Will closes his eyes for a moment, fighting back tears. His breath is coming in short and choppy but he’s at least aware of his surroundings. When he speaks again, his voice is scratchy and distant, sounding like he hasn’t spoken in days, “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what that was…”

Hannibal observes the boy for a moment, weighing his options. Finally, he steps closer to Will and gently places a hand on his shoulder, “I want you to take a deep breath, can you do that for me?”

He nods, keeping his eyes closed, and takes a long, slow breath.

“Good.” The doctor steps back, watching his patient closely. “Now, would you like for me to tell you what just I just saw happen?” The boy slowly nods again, somewhat collapsed in on himself. “Very well. You, William, just attempted to access a memory that is deeply traumatic for you. In order to protect yourself, your body and mind reverted to panic instead of allowing you to remember whatever it was, does that make sense?”

Will raises his head, eyes wet with tears. He looks so small, so delicate, so  _ breakable. _ Hannibal blinks the thought away, keeping his demeanor calm and collected. “Can you tell me if you understood what I just explained to you?”

The boy nods, slowly loosening his white-knuckled grip on the hem of his shirt, “Y-yes, sir…”

Against his better judgment, Hannibal crouches down and gently places a hand on his patient’s knee, “Come back to me, Will.”

The words seem to coax him back to the moment just enough and Will breaks down crying. He’s fully sobbing, almost choking as he gasps for air; he’s yanking at his own hair. Hannibal quickly reaches up and delicately untangles the boy’s fingers from his hair, pulling them away and holding them close to his chest. 

“I-I d-d-don’t--”

“Hush now,” The doctor reaches up and gently brushes Will’s hair out of his eyes. “Focus on me.”

The tears slow ever so slightly as the boy gasps for air. After a moment of shaky breathing, Will allows himself to meet the man’s eyes, still trying desperately to stop crying. He involuntarily squeezes Hannibal’s hands, his walls finally beginning to crumble down. “I-I’m sorry…”

“There’s no need to apologize, Will. You’re always safe with me.”

Without thinking, the boy lunges forward, wrapping his arms around Hannibal’s neck and hiding his face in the older man’s shoulder. He’s still shaking, but at least the tears have mostly stopped.

“I’m weak…” His voice is muffled by Hannibal’s suit jacket.

“No,” Hannibal pulls back to look into those beautiful blue eyes, “Feeling this way doesn’t mean you’re weak, it just means you’ve been hurt. I’m going to help you no matter what.”

Will rubs his eyes and nods, “I’m sorry for breaking down. I'm just in the way...”

The doctor tuts gently, “Now, now. I won’t have you thinking that way about yourself. You’re not a burden to me, William.”

He laughs softly, a gentle sound that has Hannibal wondering, for a brief moment, what Will would sound like in a more  _ compromising _ position. 

“No one ever calls me by my full name like that.”

“Should I not?” Hannibal slowly rises to his full height and steps back to give Will some room to breathe. 

“It’s okay, it just always sounds so serious, I guess.” He sniffles and rubs his eyes, “At least to me.”

Doctor Lecter takes a steadying breath and moves back behind his desk, debating what to do next. After a moment, he speaks, “I hate to cut things short, but I’m worried you’ll miss breakfast if you don’t head that way soon.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize there were set times.”

“Yes, breakfast is from 8:30 to 10:00.” He stops and looks over, “Did Nurse Lounds not tell you?”

Will has a blank look on his face, “Nurse Lounds…?”

“The woman I sent to fetch you this morning. She didn’t introduce herself?”

Realization washes over Will, “Oh her!” He laughs, looking relieved, “I was worried I forgot someone again. No, I don’t think she told me her name.”

_ Again… _ Hannibal nods, making a mental note of what the boy just let slip, but decides not to push the subject any further. “Why don’t you get some breakfast? We can talk again later if you’d like.”

“Thank you, doctor. When can I see you again?”

The man allows himself a smile at Will’s wording. “I have an opening tomorrow after lunch; unless you’d like to meet before then.”

“Tomorrow’s fine, thank you.” The boy quickly stands and gathers his belongings, muttering a quick goodbye as he rushes himself out of the office. 

  
  


Will makes his way to the dining room, only getting turned around a few times before he finds it. There are maybe fifteen other patients scattered around the various tables; some are sitting together, deep in conversation, others are reading or simply just enjoying their food. He grabs a black plastic tray and makes his way over to the food counter where an older man with rubber gloves hands him a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. Will makes his way down the line, gathering a small bowl of orange slices and a carton of milk. 

He turns and scans the dining room, looking for a place to sit. The tables are all heavy, wooden, and circular, and Will briefly wonders how expensive this place was to set up originally. 

A flash of movement catches his eyes and Will turns to see the young girl he locked eyes with earlier. She’s waving at him, a gentle smile on her face. After a moment of consideration, he smiles as well and walks over to her table. 

“Um… Hi.”

She points to the chair across from her and leans on her elbows, “You’re new here, yeah? I’m Abigail.”

Will nods and introduces himself, starting to pick at his breakfast. “What’re you here for?” He hesitates and laughs awkwardly, “Sorry, am I not supposed to ask that?”

She shrugs, “I don’t mind. It is kind of a dark story though.” She tilts her head a bit, keeping those piercing eyes trained on him. “Do you really wanna know?”

“Only if you want to talk about it.”

As an answer, Abigail reaches up and tugs her scarf loose, revealing a long, somewhat jagged scar along the length of her throat that appears to still be healing. Will sucks in a breath of surprise.

“My dad did it,” She states matter-of-factly. “Doctor Lecter took me in right after.”

“I-I’m so sorry--” Will manages.

Abigail shrugs again, “It’s not your fault.” She looks up at him, “What about you? Why are you here?”

“Oh, um… I’ve kind of always had problems and I…  _ ibroughtaguntoschool… _ ”

Abigail’s eyebrows shoot up, “You’re joking, right?”

He shakes his head, “I-I wasn’t going to hurt anyone. Someone told me to do it, and sort of threatened me, I guess. I had to do it.”

“You didn’t tell the cops that?”

“No, I did…” Will nervously looks down at his eggs, suddenly not feeling very hungry. “That’s why I’m here and not in prison or something.” He clears his throat, “Sorry. I can leave if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

Abigail stares at Will for a long moment, obviously coming to some sort of conclusion around him. After what feels like an eternity, she shrugs and takes a bite of her breakfast, wincing a bit when she swallows. “You can stay if you want. I think you’re a pretty nice guy so far, honestly.”

The boy visibly relaxes, eternally relieved that he hasn’t scared off his possible new friend so soon. “Thanks, that really means a lot.”

She smiles and picks up her own milk carton, holding it out in his direction, “To new friends in weird places.”

Will laughs and bumps his milk against hers, “Here, here!”

  
  


Alone in his office, his final session of the day having wrapped up a few minutes prior, Hannibal’s mind is racing. The meeting this morning was incredibly insightful to his newest patient. Will Graham needs someone he can consistently rely on, and Hannibal is more than willing to be that person.

He pulls off his suit jacket to hang it on the back of his chair but stops when he sees the small discolored spot on his shoulder.  _ Will. _ Hannibal smiles to himself, brushing his fingers over the stain, his mind filling with the feeling of the young man trembling in his arms.

The doctor settles himself behind his desk, beginning to plan what must come next. He can’t rush Will, that much he’s certain of. The boy is flighty at best, and he’s certain one wrong move would send him running. Perhaps waiting is best after all. He shakes his head at the thought. Hannibal has never waited for something he truly wants, and he isn’t about to start now. 

He closes his eyes and leans his head back, thoughts easily turning to his responsibilities for tomorrow. He needs to think of a way to fully bridge the gap between them that will be effective and fast. Isolating Will completely could backfire much too easily, and certainly, there must be some other way to get the result he wants.

_ “I just haven’t heard from Dad in a while…” _

Now there’s an idea. He wouldn’t be forcing Will’s father out entirely, but if he limited their contact…

_ Will steps into his office, clearly distraught. He’s been feeling pushed away, not only by his own father but by Jack as well. He’s scared, somewhat angry, all around fed up with being seen as “other”.  _

_ Hannibal crouches down and does his best to comfort the young man, assuring him he needn’t worry and that everything will sort itself out soon enough. _

_ “You’re the only one I can count on, doctor.” _

_ “Please, call me Hannibal.” _

Hannibal snorts, momentarily pulling himself from his fantasy with the utter ridiculousness of the dialogue his subconscious has crafted. He takes the moment of lucidity to unbutton the top few buttons of his shirt and loosen his belt before allowing himself to return.

_ Will is on his knees now, hands in his lap and mouth open like a good boy. He looks up at Hannibal with adoration in his blue eyes. He’s silently begging for the doctor to use him and really, who is Hannibal to deny such a lovely creature.  _

_ He moans as the man carefully feeds him his cock. His mouth is warm and wet and oh, so perfect. “If this is what your mouth feels like, you must be absolutely heavenly elsewhere, Will.” The only response he gets is another sinfully delicious moan that reverberates through Hannibal’s body. _

_ The man begins thrusting, threading his fingers into those soft curls to keep Will right where he wants him. The boy is wonderfully responsive and so happy to take what he’s given. Hannibal can see him straining against his jeans, yearning to be touched. As he watches, Will slowly inches his hands towards his own groin, huffing through his nose when he finally gets the pressure he wants so badly. _

_ Hannibal tightens his grip on the boy’s hair, smiling when he sees tears of pain begin to well up in Will’s eyes. “Not until I say, pet.” _

_ The boy whines but does as he’s told, dropping his hands to his side.  _

_ The man resumes thrusting, pushing himself into Will’s throat. It’s perfect, he would stay here forever if he could. _

_ All too soon, Hannibal feels the familiar coiling in his stomach and he picks up speed, relishing in the quiet choking sounds coming from the figure beneath him. He silently curses as he pushes in as deep as he can go and comes down the boy’s eager throat. With a satisfied groan, Hannibal pulls out and smiles down at his desperate patient.  _

_ “Good boy, Will.” _

Hannibal snaps out of his fantasy with a contented groan. He slowly sits forward and grabs a tissue to clean himself up. He chuckles to himself as he wipes his hands; it’s been a long time since he’s allowed himself to get lost in a fantasy like that, much less rode it out to fruition.

He stands and pulls the few scattered papers and pens on his desk into a neat pile, the images beginning to fade from his mind. Once satisfied, Hannibal turns out his light and makes his way out of the office and out to his car. His plan for Will shall begin tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bustin a fat nut over here
> 
> Sidenote: The majority of that porn was written in the break room at my work while I was on my lunch break. Sure was fun to explain whenever my coworkers asked what I was writing.
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another day in paradise...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOT DEAD  
> Just tired and busy and playing too much Animal Crossing. 
> 
> You'd think I'd have all the time in the world right now, but you'd be deeply mistaken. Curses, I can't believe I still have to have a steady job during this crisis. (I'm being sarcastic, I'm actually super grateful, I just want customers to be nicer.)
> 
> So yeah! New chapter! That only took me, what, 2-3 months? That's nothing considering I've literally had the first chapter of this nightmare written out for like two years.
> 
> I hope you lovelies enjoy it! Wash your goddamn hands.

Another day has passed, and Will is already beginning to exercise his survival skills as best he can. This morning, he is awake and dressed with his door open before Nurse Lounds comes through to wake the patients. She peers into his room, rolls her eyes, and moves on. Will can hear her knocking on doors as she goes. He lets out a breath of relief at the lack of interaction and sinks down on his bed.

Abigail pokes her head into his room accompanied by a half-hearted knock, “Mornin’.”

He smiles, “Hi, come on in.”

She crosses her arms and leans against the doorframe. “I’m on my way to see Doctor Lecter, I just wanted to say hi before I did.” 

“That’s nice of you, really.” He fidgets a bit, suddenly realizing he’s deeply not used to keeping up friendly conversation. “Um… Do you wanna sit?”

She adjusts her scarf and shakes her head, opting to change the subject, “Did you sleep well?”

“Yep!” Will clears his throat and nods. “Slept great!” He decides to forgo telling her about the numerous nightmares he had. 

Abigail raises a shockingly narrow eyebrow, clearly doubting him. After too long a moment, she shrugs and turns to go, “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Huh? Oh! Uh… Yeah! That’d be great.”

She nods and turns away, disappearing around the corner. After a few minutes of sitting in silence, Will turns himself around and somewhat awkwardly crawls over to the window above his bed. 

Despite the rather thick iron bars, there’s a brilliant view to the immaculate yard below which transitions almost seamlessly into the dense, dark woods surrounding the hospital.

Will glances down at the time on his iPod screen and debates, momentarily, if he should go down to get some breakfast. Instead, he finds himself looking back out the window, his mind wandering. He’s remembering the small, worn, dirt path he would walk to get to the lake some miles away from his childhood home. 

As he watches the trees, Will begins to lose himself to his own mind. He can feel it happening before it even begins to take effect, like frozen fingers dragging along his spine. He’s powerless to stop it. 

_ “And remember to reel it back in slowly, just enough to catch their attention.” _

_ Will nods and casts his hook out, smiling at the soft  _ plunk _ it makes when it hits the water and sinks out of sight. It’s peaceful here and Will relaxes back, feeling content. _

_ Under the boat, the water begins to blacken, as though someone poured dye onto its glass-smooth surface. It spreads rapidly, twisting like a living thing and growing more and more opaque until the lake is pure onyx.  _

_ Will’s breath freezes in his chest as he stares down at the water. He can feel a scream building, climbing into his throat where it stays, stuck fast. The boy shudders and slowly turns his gaze to his father, trying to form the words to warn him about the lake. Sitting in his place, however, is a dark creature with skin like oil and large, twisting antlers. It’s beady, red eyes seem to stare through Will and into his very soul. _

_ The creature tilts its head, observing the boy with a look of both curiosity and hunger. It reaches a bony hand towards him, wrapping its long fingers around Will’s shoulder and squeezing until the skin bruises. It opens its mouth, letting out a strangled whisper that just barely sounds like “Will”. _

_ “Wh-what are you?!” _

_ “Wiiiilll…” _

“Will?”

The boy jumps and whips around. He’s back in his room at the institution, sitting on his bed under the window. Doctor Lecter is standing next to him, a hand on Will’s shoulder and a look of concern in his dark eyes. He scans his patient’s face, trying to glean if he should be more concerned than he already is.

Will glances around the room, eyes wide as he searches for the creature from his mind. Finding nothing, he takes a shuddering breath and slowly looks up at the doctor, “Wh-what’s going on?”

“When you didn’t come to our scheduled appointment, I came to see if I could find you.” The doctor tilts his head a bit, “You were muttering to yourself when I arrived, and didn’t respond when I said your name.” He steps back to give Will a moment to breathe, “Do you feel alright enough to have a session today?”

The boy hesitates, something not adding up to him. “But… I thought our session wasn’t until this afternoon…?”

Hannibal raises an eyebrow and silently holds his watch out for Will to see. 2:00p.m. The boy’s heart sinks and he hangs his head, mind racing to form some sort of explanation or apology.

Doctor Lecter lets out a gentle sigh. “Come along, let’s go for a walk.”

“What’s beyond those trees?”

They’re walking through the large, enclosed yard. Several other patients are milling around, talking with one another, or keeping to themselves. Will even catches sight of Abigail sitting under a tree, reading a book. 

“Not much, I’m afraid.” Hannibal pauses, thinking, “I believe there’s a river several miles in, but I’m not aware of anything else.”

Will nods, his attention on the gently swaying trees. He silently sets himself the goal of finding the river as soon as he can. “Maybe we can go fishing some day…” His voice is distant.

The sentiment catches Hannibal off guard. He’s barely what he’d consider “close” to Will, and yet the boy is already offering, involuntarily or not, to bring this man into a part of his life that can only be described as intimate.

“Is that something you’d like, Will?”

The boy nods again, the far-away look still in his eyes, “I’d really like it…”

“Well,” Hannibal motions for Will to sit on one of the carved marble benches. “That may happen sooner than you think.”

That snaps the boy back to attention. He looks up in surprise, his curls bouncing around his face, “You mean it?!” The sheer innocence on his face makes the man suppress an adoring gasp. 

Instead, the doctor reaches over and gently pats Will’s head, smiling to himself at the softness of his hair. For a brief moment, Hannibal thinks back to his fantasy from the night before. 

The boy doesn’t pull away, finding himself oddly comforted by the kind touch. He closes his eyes for a moment as a feeling of sadness creeps up from his stomach. “I haven’t heard from my dad at all…”

_ Now’s the perfect opportunity.  _ Hannibal clears his throat, “I should’ve told you sooner, Will. I’m sorry, but…” He takes a deep breath as though steeling his nerves. “I spoke to your father last night; he said now that you’re here, he’s going to be taking some time away. He probably won’t be able to converse with you for a while.” He pauses, watching the boy’s reactions. Truthfully, he hasn’t spoken to Will’s father at all, but judging from the limited information he’s been given, this is a believable lie.

Will has shrunk in on himself, eyes downcast. He’s hugging himself, mere seconds from breaking down.

“I’m sorry, Will, I should’ve told you as soon as I heard anything.”

The boy shakes his head and rubs his eyes, trying to hide how truly distraught he is at the news. “I-It’s okay. I guess I should’ve figured he’d want some time to himself.”

Will has surprised him yet again. Anyone else in this situation would be rightfully furious. The boy has just been told he’s essentially been abandoned, and yet he’s placing the blame on himself for, what, existing?

“Will, may I ask you a serious question?” The boy nods, not looking up, and Hannibal continues, “Has your father ever… How shall I put this…” He looks out at the trees, choosing his words as carefully as he can. “Has he ever made you feel unwanted?”

The slight tense in Will’s shoulders tells the doctor everything he needs to know. 

“I see. That’s truly horrible to hear.”

When the boy speaks again, his voice is barely a whisper, “H-he’s never hurt me…”

Hannibal glances around to make sure they’re alone before he gently wraps an arm around the boy and pulls him into a tender and thoroughly un-affectionate hug. “Whether he has or not, you’re safe with me. That’s a promise.”

Will wipes his eyes and nods before slowly getting to his feet. “I’m going to dinner if that’s okay?”

The man nods, not having the heart to tell him that dinner isn’t for another hour at least; not that he thinks that’s where the boy is going anyway. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, as Will has already started back towards the institution, walking much faster than he realizes. 

Doctor Lecter leans back on the bench, crossing his legs. He smiles to himself; this was supposed to be step three or four of his original plan, but Will, extraordinary boy that he is, has managed to skip directly to the main act. Hannibal pulls his phone from his pocket and scrolls until he gets to the number he wants. Jack Crawford will be the hardest to convince, he’s certain; but with enough psychologist talk, he’ll be able to get the result he wants. With any luck, Hannibal won’t have to contact Will’s father at all, Jack will do it for him. 

The next step will, unfortunately, be Abigail.

Will sighs and sinks down on his bed, running a hand through his hair. Today has been disastrous for a multitude of reasons. He can’t tell if he wants to cry or hit something. Or both. 

His whole life, Will has struggled with losing himself to the waking nightmares his mind seems to love to conjure up, and now that he’s safely out of the way, his father wants nothing to do with him.

No… no. It makes sense. He’s been a burden to his father through it all, of course, the man needs a break. It’s his fault for being so troubled. 

The boy rubs his eyes and glances at the time. It’s not even close to lights out, but he doesn’t want to go to dinner at all. After some deliberation, Will gets up and walks to his desk. He writes a simple note, tears out the page, slides it under the door so Nurse Lounds can see it when she does the rounds, and turns out his light. He kicks his shoes off and crawls into bed, not bothering to undress. A few minutes later, he’s completely asleep.

His dreams come in fits and bursts, none lasting longer than a few minutes, but all involving the dark creature from before. Finally, his mind calms to blackness before opening on a new scene. 

_ He’s sitting in a dimly lit, expensive-looking restaurant. There’s a red candle in the center of the table that casts an eerie glow on the hands and chest of the smartly dressed gentleman sitting across from him. Will can’t see his face at all, but he doesn’t feel threatened at all. _

_ A large plate of gorgeous food is placed in front of Will and he smiles, feeling his stomach growl. It looks delicious. _

_ The man across from him lifts a bottle of champagne Will hadn’t noticed and fills the boy’s glass before topping off his own as well. _

_ “What are we celebrating?” He hears himself ask, though as soon as he does, he realizes it’s an anniversary. _

_ The man speaks in a somewhat familiar tone that Will can’t quite place. He gestures to the boy’s hand and Will glances down. _

_ A ring. Golden and heavy and seeming to glow in the low light. His stomach twists a bit, though it’s not an unpleasant feeling. He feels a smile climb onto his lips where it stays until it starts to make his cheeks hurt.  _

_ He’s always wanted this: a relationship with someone who happily holds him and guides him through the hardships of life with kindness and love. This is his perfect ideal.  _

All too soon, Nurse Lounds’ sharp knocking pulls Will from his perfect fantasy. He groggily sits up and glances around his austere bedroom, the last few dregs of his dream fading. Even as the reality of the waking world chases the night from his mind, the same feeling of warm comfort washes over him as he finally manages to place the voice he heard.

Doctor Hannibal Lecter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People always say things like "I SWEAR I'll get the next chapter out sooner!!!!11!!!1!" and then don't... actually... do that...
> 
> It's me. I'm people. 
> 
> I'm going to pretend I'm avoiding that trap by saying I will TRY to put out the next chapter much sooner. I actually kinda know where I want it to go, and I broke down and wrote an actual outline like a professional who, like, cares about the things they write??? Can you imagine???
> 
> Thank you as always for reading! I hope you guys are staying safe and healthy through the actual apocalypse. See you on the other side!

**Author's Note:**

> In 2020, we're finishing our WIPs goddammit.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading! Comments are always appreciated, especially if you enjoyed the story.
> 
> (Reread and edited some minor things on 1/29/20)


End file.
